


The Shimmering

by Basmathgirl



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Mild Smut, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End, Romance, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 14:30:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8405164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: A weirdly familiar man keeps appearing in front of Donna. Why?[Rating at Mature just to stay on the safe side; although this might've got me kicked off FFN. Again]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I once thought I owned these characters; and then I forgot.  
>  **A/N:** this is a revised version of something I originally wrote back in 2011.

It was as Donna turned in to Arcadia Close that it happened: a man shimmered into being in front of her on the pavement. 

That would have been surprising as it was, but this was added to by the fact that he had a panicked look of recognition on his face as he squealed “Donna!” before he shimmered out of being again. If Donna were of a more pathetic disposition she would have fainted; as it was, she merely staggered with shock for a bit.

Back home she asked her grandfather, “Gramps, do I look alright to you?”

“Why’s that sweetheart?” he asked with concern, taking in her anxious demeanour and paler than normal complexion. “You look as if you could do with a good night’s sleep and some dinner in your belly; other than that you look fine.” He smiled encouragingly at her.

“It’s just… I saw a man yesterday who sort of..” She did a wavy hand gesture. “...wobbled in front of me before shouting out my name.”

“Is he alright? Did you call an ambulance?” Wilf asked.

“No. Nothing like that happened; he wasn’t ill.” But Donna didn’t know what he was.

Wilf took a sip of his tea. “Then what’s the problem?” he pondered, wondering what worried her about the encounter.

“I don’t understand how he got there, or why he shouted my name like that. And… I know this will sound stupid, Gramps, but I know him and I don’t,” she explained.

“You’re right, it does sound stupid,” Wilf chuckled. “What did this bloke look like exactly?”

“Well…” She gazed off into the distance as she tried to recall him. “He was tall, skinny, in a blue suit with a red tie, with dark spikey haired and was a… What did you call them blokes with sideburns? Erm… a rockabilly!”

Wilf visibly blanched as he recognised the description. “Who could that be?” he mumbled.

“I know,” she declared. “It’s your friend John Smith. Don’t say you’ve forgotten him,” she accused him.

“Oh, John!” Wilf tried to hide his reaction, and desperately tried to come up with a way to distract her onto another topic. “What was your mum doing for dinner tonight? Only we’d better make a start, eh?”

Sensing his need to talk about something else, Donna let herself be veered towards some monotonous task; and decided to think about John Smith later, when she got the chance.

~o~

Three days later she was closer to home, struggling with some awkward bags of shopping when John Smith shimmered in front of her again. The effect was like an old fashioned dial television as he came into vision.

“Donna, don’t!” he cried just before he disappeared again and she called out his name.

An old man passed by her at that point, accompanied by a manky looking Labrador who could hardly shuffle alongside its master. 

“Did you see that man?” Donna accosted him. “Did you see him?”

“Who? No, sorry love,” the man apologised and wheezed on his way.

Perhaps this was a side effect of all that memory loss? She’d lost over two years’ worth of memories after all; and perhaps hallucinations were part of the package. Shaking her head, she attempted to carry her shopping safely the rest of the way home.

~o~

Just as she’d decided she’d dreamt the whole thing, the man appeared before her again nine days later; but this time it happened in her office.

“Donna! Don’t go…,” he yelled, but she lost the end of the message when he fizzled out of view again.

This was beginning to get irritating. What the hell was going on?! She looked round to try and find the cameras filming this prank. She’d have their guts for garters when she’d catch the blighters pulling this stunt on her. 

“Come on out! I know you can hear me!” she shouted at her pranksters. “I’ll sue the backsides off you!”

But no-one emerged to own up; though the temp down the hall gave her a weird look.

~o~

A week later she was out with Veena and Nerys, having a drink, when she heard someone calling her name pathetically from behind a skip; a voice and a tone that was extremely familiar to her, but she had no idea why. Abandoning them in the pub beer garden, she made her way across the road, and sought out the male voice calling her.

As she neared the skip, she called out, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” to the disembodied voice.

“Donna, do you have to?” the voice whined. As she peered round the edge of the skip, he was most annoyed that she laughed at him as he crouched on the ground. “This is NOT funny, Donna! I feel like crap, and I’ve ruined my suit. I don’t remember travelling this way being so awful before, and I’m starving hungry.”

“And hello to you too, John Smith,” she smirked at him in amusement. What an idiot! Where on earth had he managed to get himself completely covered in goo? 

She helped him stand properly, and as he tried to dust himself down he thought to ask, “Why are you calling me John Smith?” 

She laughed at his scrunched up face. “Because it’s your name, Skipboy,” she sneered.

“No it isn’t,” he insisted. “That’s what _HE_ used. I chose something else.” He thoughtfully considered her before asking, “Where is he by the way?” He tried to look around her, obviously seeking someone out.

Donna turned to peer behind her too. “Who you looking for? ‘Cos you won’t find anyone except Nerys and Veena,” she quizzed him. “And stop dodging the question: what is your name?”

“Oh! I didn’t introduce myself, did I?” He gave her his cheesiest grin and stuck his hand out to shake hers. “I’m the new and official Benedict Noble. Do you like it?”

“Of course I do. It has always been the top name on my list of possible baby names… And why do I feel that you’d know that?” Donna looked at him most disconcertedly.

He tapped his forehead. “Because I do. Keep up Donna! You weren’t always this thick,” he mocked her.

“And you weren’t always so…” Her face crumpled as she realised that she had no idea what he normally was.

“What’s the matter, Donna?” he wondered, then he grabbed her hands and instantly recoiled. “Wow, you feel wrong! What did he do to you?”

She pulled sharply away from him. “What are you on about? And who is this ‘he’ you keep going on about?” She glared at him for good measure. Idiot! Going around changing his name to almost hers in some weird stalker-ish manner.

“Oh Donna,” he sighed softly. “He really did a number on you, didn’t he?” He reached out to tenderly caress her cheek. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry.”

“You’ll be even more sorry, mate, if you don’t get your paws off me!” she growled at him, causing him to step back in confusion.

“But it’s me, Donna. Surely you know me? We know each other like we know ourselves,” he pleaded with her. “I owe you my very existence. How can you deny knowing me?”

“It’s really easy,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “As far as I’m concerned you’re a warped friend of Gramps that used to call himself John but ditched that for Benedict.”

“Then I’ll have to make you see,” he told her, determinedly taking a step closer again.

“Oh yeah! How are you going to do that?” she threatened him.

“By doing this,” he replied by grabbing her head and bringing his lips down onto hers in a rough kiss.

_WHOOSH_

There was a rush of images in her mind; and then there was a resounding: SLAP!

“Don’t ever do that again, Timeboy,” she growled at him. “It was marginally better than a head butt; however, I will be forced to personally castrate you if you try it again.” 

He held his cheek and sniffed defensively. “Okay, Donna,” he answered.

“I suppose you’ll want a drink now you’re here,” she offered. “Not that I think you deserve one for grabbing me like that; but you’re still a friend of Gramps’.”

“So we’re using that as our excuse, are we?” he gleefully teased her, delighted to see her blush. “Come on then.” He held his hand out towards her in invitation; and Donna was surprised to find herself taking it without too much argument.

“Prawn!” She nudged his shoulder playfully when she got the chance as they crossed the road.

“Tart!” He nudged her back; and they both giggled together.

“Oi, Donna! Who’s the bloke?” Veena shouted out to them as they appeared at the beer garden entrance. “And what _is_ he wearing?!” she asked with disdain.

Benedict looked down at himself then, suddenly remembering his ruined suit. As he went to apologise, Donna jumped in with an excuse. “He had a bit of an accident with a sump, poor love. I’m taking him home to wash and change in a minute.” Noticing her friends’ inquisitive glance at their entwined hands, she quickly added, “Veena, Nerys, this is Benedict.”

“Are you sure that’s his name?” Nerys mumbled, seeming to catch herself from blurting out the question.

Donna chose to ignore her, and instead asked, “Anyone want another drink?” before dragging Benedict with her into the murky depths of the saloon bar. “What do you want, Sunshine?” she asked him as they reached the bar and a barmaid sauntered up to take their order.

“What do you recommend?” he asked her with a beaming grin. “I’m a bit new at this lark.” He leant closer to confide, “I’ve never been in a pub before.”

“What never?!” she almost shrieked at him in disbelief before lowering her voice. “How can you have lived this long and not been in a pub? Surely someone has enticed you in before? They’re not exactly hard to find, are they?” she smirked at him.

“I’ve seen them; I’ve just never been in one,” he defended himself with a pout. 

He flinched as Donna’s hand came up to his cheek, but she patted it rather than slapped it.

“We can’t have that, can we?” She turned her attention to the waiting barmaid, who was frantically chewing gum for England. “We’ll have a white wine spritzer, half a lager top, a Bacardi Breezer, and…” She contemplated Benedict. “...a pint of Guinness.”

“Will I like that?” he anxiously whispered next to her ear, causing his warm breath to waft over her.

“You should do,” she whispered her explanation. “Lots of blokes go for that.” She smiled encouragingly at him, wondering why she believed him when normally she wouldn’t. Having paid for the drinks, she handed him the Guinness and another drink to carry. “Come on, Benny, let’s go meet our public.” 

“I’m not called Benny!” he whined as they moved from the bar; and Donna was suddenly struck with how familiar that whine sounded, almost too familiar.

“So, Benny boy,” Veena began her line of enquiry as they sat down with their drinks. “How did you and Donna here meet?”

“Well, she was there when…,” he stumbled, overcome with shyness.

“He’s one of Gramps’ mates,” Donna stated. “He was at our house that night of the planets in the sky.”

He gave her a wild look, wanting to tell her that wasn’t him, but he bit his tongue and held that confession in. 

“Is that right, Benny?” Nerys sneered at him; though he couldn’t quite understand why.

“That was our first night together,” he admitted; and was startled by the ‘oooh!’ both women made.

“He doesn’t mean like that, you idiots!” Donna snapped at them. “Do you really think my mother would let me get up to anything beneath her roof?”

“No. But she didn’t mind when you had Lance move in with you in your flat,” Veena laughed; except neither Donna nor Benedict laughed with her.

“He was a prat,” Benedict commented, and hastily took a sip of his beer. “Mmm, this isn’t bad, Donna.” He grinned with delight.

“Told you.” She smiled confidently at him. Seeing her friends puzzled expressions, she explained, “It’s his first pint of Guinness.”

“What else is going to be his first time tonight, Donna?” Veena asked cheekily.

Donna glared at her. “Oi, don’t start! We aren’t all tarts around here,” she insisted.

“You’ve changed your tune,” Nerys chimed in. “Or have you changed your tastes?”

“Donna?” Benedict asked her in confusion. 

She could feel it rolling off him in waves. So she took hold of his hand, giving it a consoling squeeze. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll sort you out later.”

“I bet you will,” Veena scoffed, adding to his confusion as he frowned desperately. “For goodness sake, Donna; put him out of his misery! Are you going to have sex with him or not?”

“Oh!” He blushed in understanding. “I wasn’t expecting…”

“What were you expecting then?” Nerys suddenly asked, throwing his composure to the four winds. 

“I don’t…,” he stammered. He gave Donna a forlorn, pleading, look. “I never…”

“Give over, girls!” Donna admonished them. “Leave the poor bloke alone. He’s only just got here, for Pete’s sake!” Summoning up her best glare, she threatened them, “Pick on him and you’ll have me to deal with. Have we got that straight?” Both women nodded their agreement. “Right! That’s sorted, now can we please get back to what’s important.”

“What, you mean that pig’s ear of a hairstyle Natalie had last week?” Veena asked, causing the other’s to laugh as well; and the conversation veered off into banalities until they finished their drinks.

~o~

Finally getting her chance to escape from the two women, Donna said her goodbyes and tugged on Benedict’s hand to drag him after her. He staggered considerably once they left the beer garden and tried to walk down the road.

“Donna, I think I’ve got something wrong with me,” he complained.

“It’s called being drunk,” she enunciated very slowly for him.

“Are you sure?” He released her hand and slung his arm around her shoulder. “I thought that was bad, but I feel quite happy about it.”

“That’s why they call it being merry,” she told him, amused by his growing boyish grin.

“What did…?” He interrupted himself by almost tripped up a kerb stone as he tried to ask his question, swinging inwards towards her. “What did they mean by beer goggles? What are they?”

She waved away the gassy beer smell that emanated from his breath. “That’s when someone looks attractive to you purely because you are sloshed. You know, drunk,” she emphasised.

His weight bore down on her shoulder again. “They didn’t mean that about you though, did they? I mean, look at you. You’re whatshername!” he declared to all and sundry. He swung nearer still. “You’re beautiful! That’s the word. Beautiful, and…” A thought hit him so he halted, suddenly sobering slightly as he looked at her. “You’re ginger; did you know that? My beautiful ginger Donna.”

“Erm… thanks for that,” she replied, pushing him forward and holding him up now as he wavered dangerously beside her. “I’d have forgotten if you hadn’t’ve told me. Though I’m not sure about the beautiful bit.”

“But you are!” he insisted. “He would never have said it; but I can.” That was when he burst into song. “♫♪♫♪ You’re beautiful! You’re beautiful, it’s true. When I saw your face, ’cross a crowded place; and I don’t know what to do, ’cos I’m so in love with you! ♫♪♫♪”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** If you don’t recognise the song, it’s “You’re Beautiful” by James Blunt.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Donna muttered with embarrassment. Seeing the front drive come into view, she remarked, “Thank goodness we’re almost there.”

Apart from the porch light, the house was in darkness. “The light’s on but nobody’s home.” Benedict giggled at his own joke.

“Yeah, that’s what they’ll say about you,” Donna commented as she wrestled with the act of getting her front door key out of her pocket whilst keeping him upright, and opened the door. 

How he didn’t fall through it and land face first onto the hall carpet she'd never know. She steered him down the hallway into the kitchen diner.

As his gaze swept over the space he cried, “Oh look! Home sweet home. Hello house!”

“I’m sure it’s saying hello back; now since we’re here you’d better take that suit off,” she ordered him.

The pout on his face was priceless. “Why?!” He placed his hands across his body as if he’d just been found naked.

“So that I can wash it,” she replied, and pointed out the washing machine nearby. “You remember washing, don’t you? It gives your clothes the chance of being clean again.”

He peered down to consider his suit. “But the machine might ruin the cloth.”

“It’s already ruined, Sunshine. That goop did a pretty good job of doing that,” she pointed out. “Now take it off.”

He peeled off his jacket, and then suddenly stopped when he noticed Donna had done the same with her jacket. “’Ere! What’s going on?” he demanded.

Donna flung her jacket into the machine. “You glooped me as well. You can’t have forgotten already, surely?”

He sheepishly looked back at her. “No,” he insisted, and began to undo his trousers. Obviously this was hilarious, because he started to laugh. “You will be gentle with me, won’t you, Donna?” he giggled.

“I’m not making any promises,” she replied. There was something about his expression that made her decide to remove anything else she was wearing upstairs in her own bedroom. “Now let’s get you into bed before we get caught like this and have to answer awkward questions.”

His giggling fit continued as he stumbled up the stairs; but she managed to steer him into the spare bedroom. He fell onto the single bed there with glee. 

“Care to join me?” he tried to entice her, but he wasn’t having much luck with the seductive look.

“No thanks,” she informed him. “I’ll go find you some pyjamas, and then I want to see you in that bed.” Having given her orders, she marched out to grab some of Wilf’s spare pyjamas, and then bullied Benedict into changing into them, taking his removed shirt and tie to put into the washing machine along with his suit. “Night, Benedict!” she called out when she returned back upstairs; unsurprised to get no response. 

He’d gone out like a light.

~o~

Donna was woken the next morning by her mother shouting loudly on the landing outside her bedroom door.

“Donna! Donna, come here!” Sylvia yelled at the top of her voice.

“What?!” Donna snapped at her, swinging open the bedroom door with some force. “Why on earth are you shouting so loudly at this time of the morning?”

“Would you care to explain _HIM_?!” Sylvia pointed into the spare bedroom at the prone figure sleeping soundly in the bed.

“He’s a _friend_.” Donna rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Anybody would think you’d just found him in _MY_ bed!”

“Don’t get lippy with me, missy!” Sylvia huffed. “And don’t think you can bring in any Tom, Dick or Harry to sleep in my bed.” She chose to ignore the snicker that Donna instantly covered. “Who is he anyway?” Sylvia moved into the room to pull back the cover that hid his head. She let out a shriek of recognition that finally roused him.

“Donna? Come back to bed,” he sleepily muttered and turned over; causing Donna to blush with embarrassment and Sylvia to glare at her knowingly.

“Well?” Sylvia demanded disdainfully. She bravely fought her deep-seated desire to beat the living daylights out of him for coming back and endangering Donna. 

But Donna just shrugged at her. “What can I say? He’s a mate, he knows Gramps, and he came to meet me last night. We had a few drinks with Veena and Nerys, and he got a bit tipsy. As he has nowhere else to go at the moment, I brought him home with me since I thought you wouldn’t mind,” she explained, emphasising the last bit deliberately.

“Yes...well…I suppose he can stay for a while,” Sylvia had the grace to say within earshot, but she continued to glare at both Donna and especially the bed occupant. Unable to stay in the same room as _him_ , she hastily left the bedroom to find Wilf. “Dad? Dad. Quick! Guess who’s in our spare bed?” she whispered loudly to him before shutting the door on their private conversation.

“I think she remembers you,” Donna commented to Benedict, who was looking slightly the worse for wear.

“Why are you in here waking me up?” he griped, and tried to bury his head under the covers again.

“Oh no you don’t!” She leapt forward and wrenched the covers back down to reveal him. "Mum is on the warpath, so you’d better get out of your pit and make an appearance, Sunshine.”

“But Donna,” he moaned. Why did that continue to sound so familiar to her? “Donna, I haven’t got any clothes.”

“No, you haven’t,” she agreed mischievously. “Whatever will you do?”

He grabbed her arm and dragged her nearer to him. “I’ll wear your charcoal trouser suit if I have to; but I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.” He grinned at her.

“How did you know about that? Have you been stalking me? Is that how you got all that knowledge about me?” she blazed, and tried to pull away from his grasp, but he held on tight.

“No,” he insisted. “I keep telling you; we _know_ each other.”

“But…but…how do we know each other?” she whispered anxiously, wrestling with what her heart and her mind were telling her.

He sighed, and answered, “I’ll have to show you again, won’t I? But this time you will probably remember a good deal more.” 

Cautiously, he slowly brought her closer still until their lips touched gently, pressing a chaste kiss there. Then another, followed by another; until he was kissing her delicately. He released her arm so that he could embrace her properly, her hands smoothed up his body to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Kiss after tender kiss they shared, deepening with each passing.

Her mind felt like it was expanding, growing, developing; knowing more than it had ever seemed to know before. She could see herself with him, running, laughing, crying, in so many different places until… until there was fire, pain and terror; so much terror. Everything that had been her came flooding back with certainty. He was her and she was him. They had been one split asunder. She needed him to survive. God, how she needed him! And thank goodness they had found each other before it was too late and the metacrisis wiped them from existence.

Sylvia and Wilf found them lying on the bed with their arms wrapped tightly around each other, snogging like it was going out of fashion. 

“Aye aye!” Wilf exclaimed with glee. 

But to Sylvia’s horror, the couple in front of them didn’t desist. Wilf touched her arm and indicated that they should leave them to it, so she reluctantly left the spare bedroom and shut the door. Not quietly, mind you.

~o~

Both Donna and Benedict had been aware on one level that their communion had been interrupted, but they chose not to care and continued their inner dialogue.

 _Do you see now?_ he telepathically asked her.

_Yes, yes I see,_ she replied in the same way. _But why did you come back here?_

_I had to! I had to see for myself why I stopped feeling you. I built myself a new version of a dimensional cannon-come-vortex-manipulator, and got here as quickly as I could. You do understand, don’t you?_

_Yes, of course, but…I thought you were happy with her,_ she probed. _Why come back for me? To me?_

_Oh Donna. I was foolish to think it would work. It only seemed right because you pushed me,_ he explained. _I was given away like a Christmas present._

_You weren’t mine to give. Weren’t ours to give._

_He thought so!_

_No. No it wasn’t like that. He meant…_ she faltered. She realised that what she had been about to say wasn’t true, since she no longer agreed with it.

_I don’t care what he meant!_ His angry thoughts exploded in her mind. _He was wrong. He shouldn’t have parted us like that._ His bitterness burrowed into her mind.

_Shhh! Don’t worry…you’re back with me now; we’ll make it alright,_ she soothed him. _I don’t have to live without you anymore._

He felt her compassion, understanding and unconditional love flow into his mind, easing his troubles away; and sparking his desire, allowing it into the foreground, flaming through them both. _Oh Donna,_ he groaned, both internally and externally.

That brought her sharply back into the room, and she realised that not only had they continued to kiss but things had physically gone much further than that. They had tenderly caressed each other, wanting to feel skin against skin, pushing their night clothing aside in their struggle; he was now in her, and she cried out with the delicious, much yearned for, sensations it created. Boy did it feel good! It obliterated everything else; all reason, all arguments.

She forced her eyes open and saw him unseeing above her. An ecstatic grin played about his features as he drowned in the feelings and sensations of their actions; her name a mantra on his lips as he took control of his thrusts.

“Doctor,” she involuntarily groaned out; and that stopped him dead in his tracks.

His eyes shot open and he glared at her. “What did you just say?” he accused her. “I’m not him,” he murmured; a look of abject pain and rejection crossed his features. “How could you say that?” he uttered dejectedly, and pulled away from her.

“Benedict, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry,” she sobbed as she tried desperately to hold onto him. She dragged herself up and flung her arms around him, resting her forehead against his. “To me we are the DoctorDonna,” she whispered, “I wasn’t implying you are him; I’d never do that.” She gave a small wry laugh. “Let’s be honest, this would never have happened with him.”

“Why not?” he asked sharply. “Oh, you don’t know that bit, do you?” He realised that she was missing out on vital information. Either that or she was ignoring an awful lot.

“What bit?” she inevitably asked, holding his gaze steady.

He floundered under her onslaught. Should he tell her; surely she knew? As he was deciding what to admit, the distinctive voice of Sylvia could be heard coming up the stairs, causing them to jump apart in terror. He dived back under the covers and Donna hastily readjusted her nightwear.

“Donna! Doc- John! Are you coming down to breakfast?” Sylvia shouted out, just before the door handle started to turn. Both Donna and Benedict held their breath as they waited for Sylvia to verbally attack them. “Have you two finally finished monkeying about? Good. Now get downstairs,” she ordered them.

“Mum, Benny needs a dressing gown or something; his suit is in the washing machine,” Donna explained.

“In my washing machine?! What the heck are his clothes doing in my washing machine?” Sylvia’s face was like thunder.

“Mine are in there too,” Donna added; and then instantly wished she hadn’t. “Mum, it isn’t like that. Honest it isn’t,” she tried arguing.

“Oh yeah?” Sylvia’s voice dripped with scorn. “What was all that earlier then? Yes, you can blush young lady, carrying on like that under my roof; and with _him_ of all people!”

Benedict tried to muffle his indignation at that as Donna protested loudly, “Don’t you start on him; he’s completely innocent here. And no, he isn’t the Doctor before you begin that line of spitefulness.”

Sylvia stood stunned for a second. “Donna, what do you mean?”

“I mean, mother, he…” She pointed to Benedict. “…is NOT the Doctor; so you can get that thought right out of your head, along with the one that my brain will explode at any second.”

“Is this your doing?” Sylvia spat at Benedict. “Have you put her up to this, or hypnotised her with your alien mumbo jumbo?”

“No!” he spluttered defensively as he emerged from hiding completely. “I’m not him. I’m part of him, I’ll admit that; but mainly the hand.” He wriggled his fingers at her.

“The what?!” Sylvia looked like she would throttle him at any moment. “Don’t give me that load of old flannel. You’re the Doctor all right, so you can haul your boney arse out of my house and get the hell away from my daughter!”

Donna threw herself in front of him. “Oh no you don’t. He’ll be chucked out over my dead body. If he goes, I go!”

“Wearing only your nightdress,” Sylvia mocked her. “How very apt for the whore you’ve become.”

“Now hang on!” Benedict moved in front of Donna protectively and yelled at Sylvia. “She is nowhere near as bad as you paint her. You never got it, did you? Your daughter is one of… take that back, **the** most important person in the universe, and you have the bare-faced cheek to call her names?! You don’t deserve her. She’s coming with me, away from you, and we’re going to…”

Donna tenderly touched his arm, both interrupting him and drawing his attention to her. “What are we going to do, Benny? I don’t remember you asking me anything, or us discussing this,” she softly spoke to him.

He grinned weakly at her. “Didn’t we? I rather took it for granted that we’d be together now after what we… You do want to, don’t you? I came all this way to find you,” he stammered.

She stroked his cheek lovingly. “Of course I want to… if you’re asking,” she shyly replied.

They brightly smiled at each other before leaning in to kiss each other.

“Oh isn’t that touching,” Sylvia remarked sarcastically. “You’ll be getting married next at this rate.”

“That is the plan,” Benedict replied, glad that Sylvia had gasped in surprise. He wasn’t going to let her win points over him, not now.

“Does this plan include somewhere to live, a job; and… oh I don’t know… money?” Sylvia sneered at him.

“Not yet, but it will do,” he told her fervently. “Nothing can stop us from achieving anything.”

“You’d better not get her knocked up then, as that’ll soon scupper those plans,” Sylvia snorted with derision. “I don’t care who you are, Doctor or no Doctor, you need to make some money.”

“And we will.” He glared at her. “Mark my words; we will be together.”

“Fine! I’ll wait downstairs until you achieve all that, shall I? You’ll need something more than Dad’s pyjamas to ponce about in,” Sylvia scoffed.

“Mum! You’re not helping,” Donna almost pleaded. “You don’t know Benny like I do.”

Sylvia contemplated their close proximity, “I think I can guess how much. You’d better get married pretty sharpish young man, or Dad will march the pair of you down the aisle using Trevor Lewis’s air rifle.” Her gaze turned even beadier. “Donna, go back in your bedroom and get dressed; and you Benny, or whatever you are, can wait in here until Dad brings you some clothing.” 

She shivered in disgust as Donna quickly gave Benedict a peck on the lips goodbye, and stood guard while Donna made her way back to her bedroom.

“Thank you, Sylvia,” Benedict said in a low voice; but she chose to pretend she hadn’t heard him.

As she made her way downstairs again, Sylvia began a mental list of clothing to be bought for them all, and all the arrangements for a wedding. She smiled as she realised that her friend Sadie was going to be green with envy when told about Donna’s upcoming wedding. She could hear herself describing the passionate young man that wanted to marry her daughter so desperately. Oh yes! This could work very well in the boasting stakes.

Wilf couldn’t work out for the life of him why Sylvia was humming a happy tune as she entered the kitchen, but he was grateful for small mercies. His happiness grew exponentially when Sylvia told him about the wedding. This was going to be an excellent day!

~o~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I’d better point out that Pete Tong is Cockney rhyming slang for ‘wrong’. The BBC also owns Del boy and Rodney; they get all the best characters!

Benedict lay back on the bed feeling _very_ happy! He’d achieved every single goal he’d set himself numerous months ago. He had finally worked out to use the blueprints for the Torchwood dimensional cannon to formulate a vortex manipulator, working in secret every available moment as he tried not to fall asleep at his desk. Part of him missed that desk – stupid sentimentality. He didn’t miss fighting off any unwanted advances, stern words shouted in his face, threats of slaps, or that continuous drone about how he wasn’t the Doctor. 

“No kidding?!” he’d wanted to reply as sarcastically as he could.

But here, here was heaven in comparison. Here contained Donna for a start, here wasn’t that awful inability to live up to a legend, and here didn’t mean being quizzed to within an inch of your life. Okay, some of the time it did, but in a good way.

Donna had snuck immediately back in to see him once Sylvia had disappeared downstairs, and kissed him again. Ooh it was good! She’d pinned him on the bed, taking his breath away with her passion, and promised to return with some clothing for him. Personally he was hoping for a non-clothing option to be offered, but he didn’t get it.

When she’d returned later with some of Wilf’s clothes they’d both had a good laugh. The trousers had been short in the leg and too wide around the waist. The sweatshirt made him look as though he was a kid dressed in his dad’s things, but at least the socks were okay. Wilf had had a good giggle too when Benedict had finally managed to get downstairs to eat breakfast. It was the first of many mornings where they’d all laugh together.

“Hello Doctor. I mean… John Smith. Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?” Wilf had greeted Benedict when he first saw him hovering anxiously in the kitchen doorway. “Once you’ve sorted yourself out some proper clothes, of course.”

“Oh! I’m not him,” Benedict had answered, deeply embarrassed. “And these…” He had plucked pathetically at his sweatshirt, clearly lost for words.

“Gramps, this is Benedict,” Donna formally introduced them. “He’s a close relative of the Doctor’s.”

“Close? I’d say they share the same shoes,” Wilf chuckled. “Come on, who is he really?”

Donna and Benedict felt duty-bound to give a full explanation of the metacrisis, and how being together had stabilised her mind; both their minds. Wilf took it all quite well, considering. And he was exceptionally pleased Donna got to be with the Doctor, in a way; though he kept that snippet to himself. He had a feeling this Benedict wouldn’t welcome that thought.

Wilf did a little happy dance. “As long as my girl is happy, you’ll be fine,” he had declared, shaking Benedict’s hand. “But if you fancy coming to my astronomy club one night, you’ll be very welcome.”

~o~

As soon as he could, Benedict pulled Donna to one side to embrace her. “Hello fiancée,” he whispered as he nuzzled her ear. “I love you.”

She had squeezed him so tightly in reply he thought the breath would be totally knocked out of him.

“Benedict, put her down!” Sylvia barked at him, causing him to jump. 

He felt it best to release Donna for the time being as Sylvia was taking great delight in carefully ironing his suit, and he didn’t want to distract her too much. In fact, he couldn’t wait to wear his suit again; he wasn’t a sweatshirt sort of bloke.

“Here you go.” Sylvia beamed at him as she held up his squeaky clean suit and proudly passed him the hanger. “Much better.”

“I’ll say!” he readily agreed. “I want to get back to being me.” 

He went to kiss Sylvia on the cheek in gratitude, and she slightly balked at the action before hesitantly letting him do it. There was even a smile to go with it, he was pleased to note. One up on the Doctor then!

As he headed upstairs he was pleased to note that Sylvia had thrust a pile of clean clothes into Donna’s arms, so she trudged up the stairs behind him. “Donna!” he hoarsely whispered once they got onto the landing. “Care to help me adjust my clothing?” He gave her a saucy eyebrow waggle.

“Give me a minute,” she whispered back, giving the flight of stairs a worried glance. But Sylvia was obviously staying downstairs for the time being.

He’d only got as far as stripping off the sweatshirt and unfastening the buckle around his waist when Donna burst in on him. “You’re keen,” he said as he grinned wolfishly at her.

“Am I too late for the strip show? I see I got here in time for the previews,” she smirked. She sauntered over to him as the trousers dropped to the floor. “Oh dear! You appear to have lost something,” she cooed, reaching out to smooth her hands over his torso. “I didn’t tell you how much I like your body, did I?”

“In fairness, I didn’t tell you how much I love yours,” he replied, as his breathing got away from him. “And you’ve seen it all before.”

“True; but you didn’t look this good back then. You’ve toned up,” she said. She leered at him, still caressing his body.

“I had to do something with my time when I was avoiding falling asleep at my desk,” he admitted. “I kept thinking of doing this…” He bent forward and pressed his lips lightly against hers. “…and some of this…” He pressed more firmly. “…and definitely some of this.” He smoothed his tongue over her lips, groaning when they parted to let him seek out her taste. He deepened their kisses, pulling her into his arms and against his burgeoning body.

_Ooh. You feel good and hard,_ she encouraged him. _Should we be doing this with Mum so near?_

_I’m willing to risk it if you are,_ he replied. _Any moment now I won’t care if she catches us or not. I need you so much! Have you any idea how much I’ve missed you?_

_We’ve only been downstairs, you prawn!_

_You know I don’t mean like that. I was lonely without you. I can think so clearly when I’m with you._

_Funnily enough, so can I,_ she laughed in his mind. _You know that old cliché of ‘you complete me’? Well, you might actually make it true._ She broke from their kissing briefly. “We need to consciously do this bit,” she pointed out.

“You mean the underwear removing?” he wondered, and blushed. “Thank goodness your contraceptive shot the Doctor gave you is still in date.”

She frowned at him. “I’ve always wondered why he insisted he should give it to me. I mean, it wasn’t as if I really was going to grab the nearest available man and marry him.”

“He was just playing it safe,” Benedict replied, thankful that they weren’t telepathically connected at that moment. “He… he was worried about your well-being.”

“That sort of implies he was expecting me to be sexually assaulted or something,” she pondered.

“Yeah; or something,” he agreed. “Come on, let’s not think about him; we have other business to attend to.” He wriggled against her to remind her exactly what sort of business he had in mind. “May I do the honours?” he shyly asked as his hands landed on the buttons of her blouse; delighted to get her nod of agreement.

“Donna?! What are you doing up there?” Sylvia yelled up the stairs.

“Nothing!” Donna automatically shouted back, almost deafening Benedict in the process.

“Then come and do nothing down here!” Sylvia shouted at her again.

“She’s going to come up here. Quick!” Donna hastily did up her blouse as Benedict tugged on his clean trousers.

“Is it always this exciting around here?” he asked. “I hadn’t expected to risk my life in this way.”

“Get used to it,” Donna remarked. “Unless you fancy living a little dangerously?” She wove her arms around him, halting his attempts to do up his shirt buttons.

“Donna, I’d like to be still alive for our wedding. After that, I’ll be all yours to do with as you please.” He kissed her mouth softly.

“Is that a promise?” She kissed him delicately back.

_I’d say it was a fact,_ he told her as they heard footsteps on the stairs and the door handle being turned.

“Are you two at it again? You’re like bloody rabbits!” Sylvia exclaimed. “Come on; we’ve got a wedding to organise.”

Donna meekly followed her downstairs. She went to the bureau to pull out a writing pad, grabbed a pen off the mantelpiece and sat down at the dining table. “Well…. Where shall we start this time? Wedding venue I suppose,” she said to Sylvia. “Ah. Hello, Sunshine!” she greeted Benedict as he sat down next to her. “Any particular thoughts?”

“Nope; apart from somewhere that’ll let us get married as soon as possible.” He grinned broadly at her. 

“Right,” she said and began to scribble on the pad. “Anywhere within the next month that’ll take us.”

“You can use your old wedding dress, if you want; I thought you looked lovely in it,” he offered.

“I’m supposed to wear something you’ve never seen,” she chided him. “Though technically it wasn’t you…”

“True. It is only a memory after all,” he pondered. “I won’t mind because you will look beautiful, and I’ll only worry if you don’t turn up.”

“You are sweet,” she crooned and leant over to kiss his cheek. “Next topic is paperwork. Have you actually got a birth certificate?”

“Do be serious!” he whined. “I don’t think you both rushed down to the Registrar’s office when I came into being somehow.”

“Hmm; fake a birth certificate on the computer later.” She scribbled some more. “I think the pair of us ought to have no problem hacking in and getting one of them.” 

“Can we have a big gooey cake?” he asked excitedly. “With a teeny bride and groom on the top? And can it be chocolate cake rather than that heavy stuff they’re normally made of?” He looked at her hopefully.

“Benedict, you don’t have chocolate cake for your wedding,” Sylvia softly pointed out. “It isn’t as though it’s your birthday.”

He pouted at her. “But I want a chocolate wedding cake. It’s my wedding!”

“We’ll get you a chocolate cake, all to yourself,” Donna promised him as she took hold of his hand. “You only get married once.”

Sylvia snorted in reply. “Don’t you mean most people only get married once?”

“Did you have to bring that up, Mum? It wasn’t my fault that wedding went Pete Tong. And if it weren’t for that happening I’d never have met the Doctor and then Benedict.” She turned to smile lovingly at him. “The most wonderful man in the world.”

“All this mush isn’t getting the job done,” Sylvia griped as the couple in front of her swooned over each other. “Save it for the honeymoon.”

“Oh, we need a honeymoon!” Donna exclaimed. “With our finances we’ll be pitching a tent on Gramps’ allotment.”

Benedict snuck an arm around her. “As long as we’re together and married I won’t care where we honeymoon.”

“You could always bunk in with some church mice since you’re as poor as them,” Sylvia offered.

“Thanks for that, Mum,” Donna laughed. “We won’t always be poor.”

“Yeah, I know. This time next year you’ll be millionaires!” she scoffed. “Just like Del boy and Rodney.”

“You never know; we might get lucky like they did,” Benedict mused. “Or I could use some insider knowledge.” He tapped his temple in demonstration.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” Donna crowed; and kissed his cheek again. 

He placed a hand on her jaw to turn her head and place a kiss on her lips.

Sylvia noisily cleared her throat. “We’ve got a wedding to organise here, remember? You two will have plenty of time to do all that later.” 

She appeared phased, but secretly she was storing it all up to boast about to her friends at the next Wednesday Girls meeting. She was going to have a field day describing Benedict and his enthusiasm for her Donna.

~o~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** There is a faint reference to The Magic Roundabout here that some of you might recognise.

It took a while, but between them Benedict and Donna soon had all necessary paperwork suitably ‘faked’, as they worked their way through the wedding planning list. With a little jiggery pokery, helped by the fact Benedict had concocted a working version of a sonic screwdriver, he had appeared on official records. 

As it turned out, the Registry Office had a vacancy 35 days later. It was firmly booked once they flashed their birth certificates and assured the woman they didn’t care what day of the week or what time was available. Benedict was over the moon that he was one more step closer to his dream.

“We’d better work on getting you a job now, eh?” Donna had smiled up at him as they left the building. “Since you seem to be getting your wish for a wedding as soon as legally possible.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Are you suggesting you’re not so keen yourself? Because I don’t believe you, Donna Noble.”

“Oh yeah, Benedict Noble. Shows how much you know me then,” she teased while tipping her lips up closer to his.

He eagerly took the invite to renew their connection, taking possession of her mouth.

~o~

The wedding planning resumed that evening when Sylvia got home from work. She was pleased to see that Benedict had chipped in with the household chores and had prepared dinner; and it was pretty decent too. “Thank you, Benedict; that was lovely!” she enthused.

Benedict had immediately blushed. “I enjoy cooking properly as I never had the chance before. I lived on Pot Noodles and work back in...” His voice petered out as a morose mood settled on him.

“It’s all over now, love,” Donna softly told him, sensing his deep-seated unhappiness about his experience in the Alternative Universe.

He swallowed slowly, feeling her calm his frazzled nerves as he quelled the memories that had surged into his mind. “I’m so glad I found you,” he replied. “I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t.”

“Don’t think about it,” she suggested, throwing her arms around him in desperation. They shared a tender kiss, ever mindful that Sylvia was sitting there.

“Come on you two, this won’t get the baby bathed,” Sylvia chided them in order to refocus their attention. 

“Baby?!” Benedict’s face was a picture of horrified bewilderment.

“There’s no baby, you prawn!” Donna soothed him. “It's just a saying. We have to sort out what you are wearing for the wedding.”

He heaved a sigh of relief. “You had me worried we’d jumped the gun then. I thought we’d only…” The thought brought on a sudden blush of embarrassment as he pondered their near miss that second day. “The erm… whatever suit you think looks nicest on me will do.”

Donna took the opportunity to brush an invisible piece of lint from his shoulder. “We’ll get you a new dark suit for the wedding. I want my husband to look ultra-hot,” she explained.

“Then I’ll do my best to make you proud,” he told her, capturing her hand and pressing light kisses on her fingers.

She smirked happily at him. “Prawn! You already do that. Now you’ve got yourself an agency job we can consider saving for our own place in next to no time.”

“Will there be any problem with you getting time off, Benny?” asked Sylvia.

“No, I’ve already sorted that out; and the agency insisted I take a week off,” he said. “I’m not sure we can afford that.”

“We’ll have a proper honeymoon eventually,” Donna told him as she stroked his sideburn lovingly. “Perhaps we can have two days on our own.”

So they agreed to go through their finances together to check how long they could take off. In the end, it was decided they’d have two days in the house alone while Sylvia and Wilf visited relatives.

~o~

“Do you mind I’m not earning us enough money yet?” Benedict hesitantly asked Donna as they nestled up together on the sofa later that evening. “I want to do so fairly and squarely without resorting to using ‘Lordy’ knowledge.” He tapped his head in emphasis.

“Of course not,” she responded. “It means far more when we achieve something on our own. And I know that you can be whatever you want to be, once you’ve decided what that is.”

“You and me together,” he whispered, weaving his hand into her hair, and gently pulling her forward onto his lips. _I love you so much! I can hardly believe you’ll be mine forever soon._

_What do you mean 'soon', Timeboy? I already am,_ she replied, returning his kiss enthusiastically.

_Do you think we could get a little creative upstairs? I know we said we’d wait but… I have needs, Donna._

_And I have a mother and grandfather sitting down here. Sorry, darling, but you’ll have to hold that thought._ She chuckled at his answering groan of frustration. _Tomorrow IS Wednesday, remember; and I’m sure we can convince Gramps to go up the hill for a little while…_

_You are the most brilliant fiancée ever!!_ he cried. _Now there’s just the little problem of tonight._ He pushed at her exactly what the size of his problem was.

_My poor baby! You go on up, and I’ll tiptoe up in a minute,_ she suggested.

They broke their embrace, and Benedict tried to surreptitiously make for his bedroom. Sylvia watched his guilty progress with a smirk. Then to add to her amusement, Donna rose from the settee, made some comment about taking up the clean towels and headed up the stairs. ‘Who does she think she’s kidding?’ Sylvia wondered. She decided to give them twenty minutes before appearing to be nosey.

Benedict grabbed Donna as soon as she reached the landing, crushing her against his door as he ravished her mouth. 

_Not here! We can be heard here,_ she warned him; so he manoeuvred her into his room.

_What about here?_ he begged her. _We don’t have to go all the way, but…_

_This?_ She tested his reaction to her stroking him; and got an answering happy groan. _Shush! No sound, remember._

_Sorry! But your touch is delicious._ He pressed ecstatically into her hand. _More, please more._

_This is bloody awkward! Can’t you do this without me?_ she pondered.

_Oh for the love of…! What do I have to do to convince you how I feel? Take out a ten foot hoarding or something?! Donna, I… Nnnggghhh!!!_

_What was that? Should I stop?_ she teased.

_Don’t you dare… Please…. I’m going to…. Oh God!! I love you!_ He panted heavily into her neck before planting large, grateful kisses there.

“Donna! Are you coming down for this tea?” Sylvia called up the stairs. She waited a few moments for the expected movement she heard. Aw, she was going to have so much romance to boast about to the Wednesday Girls!

~o~

The following evening they went late night shopping to pick him out a new suit.

“Are you sure we can afford this, Donna?” Benedict asked anxiously.

She smiled back confidently at him. “Of course I am. If you look the part, you’ll soon be earning the money to cover it; and it’s a major investment, so stop worrying. You handsome devil, you.”

He blushed with delight as she ran her hands over his chest, feeling her rising anticipation as she did so. “Do you think the house is empty yet?” he near whispered.

She gave him a suggestive eyebrow waggle. “Let’s go and find out.”

As they walked along, Donna suddenly commented, “I could have sworn I heard Martha’s voice then.”

Benedict halted and sniffed the air. Yes, there was a trace of Time Lord; which meant they were in danger of upsetting the timelines. “Donna, I think we’d better get out of here, just in case,” he started to say, hoping against hope it was the Doctor during his time with Martha as his sole companion.

“It’s okay, Benny,” Donna tried to soothe him. “I know the rules of this game,” she reminded him. Her voice deliberately dropped in tone as she added, “And anyway, I have a hot date with a sexy and gorgeous man to rush home for.”

That caught his attention and forced it back onto normal tracks. “Sexy and gorgeous?” he echoed, grinning broadly at her. “Who would that be then?”

She swept a seductive finger across his chest, gauging his interest as she did so, before trailing it up his throat and onto his plump bottom lip. “Only the man I plan to ravish tonight, if you fancy joining me for a little bedroom activity.” She then deliberately ghosted her lips against his, letting him sense her growing interest in him. “Just for the record, it isn’t the national bed-making championships.”

“Is there any chance of the bed becoming very unmade?” he whispered into her ear, keen to keep her body pressed close to his. “As that sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Fun, and possibly a house that’s empty; what more could we want?” she wondered.

The urge to kiss her was irresistible. “Then what are we standing about here for? We have some fun waiting for us,” he murmured, before making the decision to break free and drag her off home.

High above them, on a separate level of the shopping centre, the Doctor stood leaning against the handrail, watching them intensely. It wasn’t often he ran into himself these days; and it was never a good thing. He tended to argue with himself for a start. But to see himself with Donna Noble was extremely interesting. In fact, he would have thought such a thing was impossible considering what had happened when they had met. Hmm. Not only would she be with him, but it looked like she would _be_ with him. It looked like he was going to get lucky in more than one way, and the thought of that gladdened his hearts. He’d looked really happy with her. Perhaps she would be his salvation? At least it was something to look forward to…

~o~

All the lights were on when they arrived home, but there was no sign of Wilf and the kettle had only some residual heat. “Looks like Gramps has gone up the hill early,” Donna commented. “Time for bed, said Zebedee.”

Benedict’s face lit up with delight and held out his hand in invitation. “Your room or mine?” 

She made a scoffing noise at him. “Depends if you want a single or a double bed.”

He growled at her in return, and dragged her hastily up the stairs and into her bedroom. Shutting the door just in case, they lunged at each other, kissing desperately whilst removing clothing. There was a bit of frustration caused by shirt cuffs that wouldn’t undo, and a bra clasp that refused to comply to an expert touch. 

“Wait! Shouldn’t we stick to our wedding night, like we planned,” Donna suggested hesitantly.

“Donna, are you trying to kill me off before I even get to taste your body properly? Please don’t do this to me!” he begged. He then gently caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I’ll wait if you want me to; you know I will, but it’s mean to get me this far… that’s all,” he crooned. He brought his mouth even closer to say, “You were willing to wait a hundred years for me once and I’d willingly do the same for you. As it is, I only have a week. I can do that; I think.” 

“A whole week?” She wriggled against him, revelling in the firm skin flush with hers. “Is that all? That’s hardly any time in the scheme of things,” she murmured, bringing her lips up to meet his. _We’re practically married already,_ she reasoned.

_And you’re no virgin bride,_ he argued. _OW! You didn’t have to hit me. If anybody’s the virgin around here it’s me._

_Yeah, keep telling yourself that, princess, because what happened between us totally didn’t count!_ she huffed angrily at him.

_If it counts, why are we bothering to wait?_ he reasoned. _I’m willing and able, you’re covered protection-wise, we have the house all to ourselves for a few hours; oh and… there’s the little matter of me being desperately in love with you._

_Good point, Holmes. I could get to like you, very much._

_Only like? I was hoping for more than that in the loving stakes._ He pulled back from their embrace to look her in the eyes. “What’s the verdict?” he asked softly.

“I’d say love conquers all, but I need you to show me,” she breathily replied.


	5. Chapter 5

And show her he did. She had never had such a tender lover before; he was so considerate and attended to every wish she could possibly make. Until then it seemed ridiculous that they had waited so long for this to happen properly; but they had both decided the moment had to be just right, without rushing or fear of being caught.

“Donna, I’d hate to disappoint you in any way, but have I convinced you that I love you?” he pensively asked when he eventually collapsed on her; completely sated for the time being.

“Benny, you could never disappoint me less than you do right now.” She grinned encouragingly as she smoothed her hands down his back. “But if you want to top this, why don’t you marry me?”

“I can arrange that in a week’s time, if you’ve got a couple of spare hours,” he joked.

“For you I’d provide a whole lifetime,” she promised, and kissed him deeply.

~o~

At that precise point in linear time, the Doctor had returned to the TARDIS alone, and feeling very lonely as he pushed open the door. Flinging his overcoat onto its usual resting place, on a stanchion, he turned to punch in the dematerialising sequence that would take him into the vortex. The TARDIS groaned at him in warning, and flashed up an image of Martha holding a large green umbrella.

The Doctor was puzzled as he peered at the picture until a faint memory began to trickle through. “Ah yes! I remember that day. Who would have ever thought umbrellas could be the death of an Englishman during a rainstorm?” he reminisced. “We were led to that shopping mall that opened a few years after Martha’s timeline. Probably nearer to when she ended up marrying Mickey, now that I think about it. Why are you showing me that? Unless…” He thought on that day more carefully, running through the events sequentially. 

Just then the TARDIS wafted up the scent of a particular perfume to permeate the room. The effect was immediate, and the Doctor’s mood sank down to his boots. “That’s Donna’s favourite perfume; the one she wore when she wanted to impress someone. The first time I ever smelt it was as I stood by the railings… Of course! She was in the shopping centre that day with me. But I never took her there during our time together. How did I see her there like that, with her arms around me and…?” 

The memory of that sighting bit hard into his hearts. It had happened before The Year That Never Was had rewritten so much of what he wanted to think about; but that memory had kept him hopeful, had made him ponder on happy times to be in his own future. He had remained hopeful even when the Master had invaded his mind and stole that happy thought, using it to taunt him, especially during one extremely upsetting piece of destruction. No, he had shut away so many things that were linked to that memory; most of it being death and torture.

But the memory existed and it was possible now that everything had been reset. At least, he had thought it was possible. Logic said that Donna had walked through that shopping mall with a version of him; ‘a version’ being the operative phrase. If you eliminated the improbable that only leaves the probable; so that left the other version of him who was currently in the alternative universe. He was still there, wasn’t he?

The Doctor began to frantically scan London on the date that the marauding umbrellas had happened and found, to his deepest concern, an anomaly. The Doctor drew in a shocked breath. “He was there, when he should not have been. The blighter managed to jump from that universe and he was there.” 

And not only had the duplicate Doctor escaped his punishment exile, he had got himself a nice little position next to Donna Noble. 

Bile rose in his throat and threatened to choke the very life from his body as the full story worked itself out in his mind. His counterpart had his Donna when he had been denied ever seeing her again. The injustice, the all-encompassing rage that brought knocked him sideways; and he beat his chest in fury. 

“NO! Argh!! This isn’t fair. She was supposed to spend her forever with me, not him! I gave him to Rose. Why wasn’t he satisfied with that?! Well, he won’t get away with it. I shall stop him if it’s the last thing I ever do!” he yelled out.

Where would it be best to land? Should he storm straight into Donna’s home or should he get back-up from Jack first? Jack would have some decent restraints he could use to punish the escapee, and no doubt a thoroughly useful cell to dump him in for the time being. His plan didn’t go much further than that, unfortunately. All he knew was that he had to get Donna away from his counterpart. The question of why never entered his head.

~o~

Benny clasped Donna close to his chest as they lay on the bed snuggled up together. For some reason he hadn’t slept for long after making love. Although he wanted to give himself points for lasting long enough to make love three times before sleep had overcome him. From what Donna had said, three times wasn’t exactly usual for human men.

Too many thoughts wanted to taunt him. Most of them centred on what the Doctor would think if he could see them in that moment. In particular, would the Doctor dare to try and split them up? Even now, having consummated their relationship. And how much of his motivation in getting Donna into bed had been to claim and retain her? 

There was no two ways about it; he was probably being a prat. The wedding was only a few days away; that was no time at all until they were permanently legally joined for ever. So why did he feel so guilty?

~o~

He stepped out of his taxi, paid the driver with a generous tip and anxiously adjusted his sleeves and lapels as he waited for Donna to appear. It was as he checked his double carnation was sitting properly in his buttonhole for the fourth time that a familiar voice called out to him.

“Doctor?! Is that you?” she cried.

He turned his head to look across the road, and there stood Martha Jones. A broad grin of recognition spread across his face, and he waved back. “Hello Martha! How lovely to see you.”

Warily checking both ways, Martha made her way across the busy road to join him. “You’re wearing a different suit. Is it new?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes. Do you like it?” he asked as he flicked off some invisible lint off his shoulder.

“And you’re wearing a buttonhole. Since when did you wear a flower?” Martha couldn’t help wondering; along with the question as to why he hadn’t greeted her with a hug. Did the flower have something to do with it?

“What’s wrong with the flower?” he defensively asked. “It’s quite normal to wear one when you’re at a wedding.”

It was then that Martha realised that they were standing outside the local registry office. “It looks nice on you. Whose wedding is it?”

“Mine,” he answered before his brain kicked in to stop him. “Oh please don’t tell anyone else,” he instantly begged. “We wanted it to be all hush hush.”

“Why?” she inevitably asked. “You’re not marrying some famous pop singer, are you?”

“No, not that sort of famous,” he vaguely answered. 

But Martha continued to glare at him expectantly. She couldn’t understand why he was being so cagey. After all, it wasn’t as though she’d stand up and demand it was her he was marrying; not anymore, anyway. “Come on… tell me. Who am I going to blab to?” 

One particular name sprang to mind that he wanted to keep well away from things. “Okay, but promise me you won’t say anything to anyone until after the ceremony.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” she cheerfully vowed, adding in the appropriate gesture. 

“It’s erm…” He leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Donna Noble.”

“No!!!” Martha blurted out her shock, and stood stunned at the news.

“Benny! Get your act together!” Sylvia’s loud command could easily be heard over the sound of the traffic.

Benedict raised his head away from Martha and called back, “Won’t be a minute!”

He rushed off without even thinking about Martha left standing there like a spare part on the pavement. His attention was on Sylvia and keeping in her good books.

“What are you playing at, chatting up young women just before your wedding?” Sylvia chastised him as he reached her side. She then adjusted his tie slightly.

“I wasn’t! I was merely…,” he started to explain; but Sylvia grabbed his arm and dragged him in through the massive main doors.

“Keep your excuses for later. Donna will be here any second,” she could be heard to say to him as they disappeared into the building.

Martha instantly pulled out her phone and dialled Jack’s number. When he answered, Martha immediately began her declaration. “You’ll never guess who I’ve just met outside the registry office, about to go in and get married. You can’t? The Doctor, that’s who! I saw him standing here as large as life. And get this; he is marrying Donna. I know! I can hardly believe it myself. You have got to get yourself here as quickly as possible before it’s all over. See you then. Bye!”

With a gleeful sigh, Martha shut her phone, put it back in her pocket, pushed through the impressive doors and headed into the building to see if she could catch a glimpse of the wedding party inside. 

It was a cavernous foyer, full of marbled fittings. A brief glance at the notice board told her that the wedding was probably taking place in a room at the top of the marble staircase, so she ran up to seek her prey.

As she reached the top step, her mobile went off in her pocket, and she quickly drew out her phone to answer the call. “Jack? What’s the problem?” she asked her caller. “What do you mean it’s not the Doctor? You called him… and he’s what? Okay… I’ll see you any second now,” she said into the device, and waited expectantly for something or someone to appear.

There was a babble of voices on the stairs behind her, and then Donna arrived; looking stunning in a close-fitting ivory dress and jacket ensemble with a matching hat. “Martha?” she queried as she reached the landing. “Have you come to the wedding?” she asked cheerfully in disbelief. “My, you are a sight for sore eyes!”

Within seconds Martha found herself being hugged, and she eagerly hugged back. “And it’s good to see you, Donna. How are you?” she wondered.

“Oh, you know. I thought I’d hang about here for a while and see if I could bag myself a good-looking husband,” Donna joked, and playfully nudged Martha. “If I had known you were around and available I would have invited you myself. We’re in Room 2.”

“Congratulations,” Martha enthused. “So… you’re marrying the Doctor. Is it deliberate this time, or have you hatched a plan to overthrow something?” 

Donna gawped back at her. “Do you not know? It’s definitely deliberate.”

“No, really; why are you both here?” Martha asked again, not believing her for a second.

“I’m getting married. Properly married. To the man I love.” Donna stood lightly panting as she fought her anger.

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” Wilf gently asked as he finally made it up the stairs. “Has something upset you? Did Benny have problems finding the place?”

“It’s okay, Gramps. I’ve got this under control. Martha thinks this is just another escapade.” Donna then threw Martha a glare. “But we know it’s all true.”

“What is it?” Sylvia demanded to know as she too appeared from one of the inner rooms.

Donna huffed loudly. “Oh this is all I need!”

“He’s in there waiting for you. Why are you playing about out here?” Sylvia grumbled.

“Why? I have no idea,” Donna snapped back. “Let’s go in. You can come if you like, Martha.”

Martha tried to hold in her indignant protest as Donna swept passed her and headed in to the room beyond.


	6. Chapter 6

As Benedict entered Room 2 he was in quite good spirits; and he let his thoughts wander to what they’d be doing that evening. The house would be totally theirs for two whole days, and he and Donna would be free to roam in any state of dress that he fancied; not that he was planning to wear many clothes. Definitely not, in the circumstances.

Part of his plan was to make love with Donna wherever and whenever the mood would take him, which would be quite often judging by his present fantasies. Perhaps it had been a good idea that he had stayed at Suzette’s the night before the wedding, because his excitement had made him keen to start fulfilling those fantasies straight away. Especially the one where he got to rip off Donna’s new ivory wedding underwear using his bare teeth. The lingerie set that he had personally chosen, because it had delicate lace with small matching bows, and the bra was strapless with a push up structural system that made those delicious breasts of hers look ultra-tasty. In fact, he planned to consummate their marriage with her still wearing all of that as he nipped at her flesh and pulled her down onto his firm body…

It was then that he was brought out of his quiet musings by the frustrated fidgeting of the wedding guests to the side of him; and he realised that the ceremony was already three minutes late.

Benedict stood pensively in the marriage room. Where was she? He knew Donna was keen to marry him; they’d been through the arrangements time and time again, so she should have been standing by his side at least three hundred and nineteen seconds ago. He shared a worried glance with Sylvia, who instantly got up from her seat next to Suzette and went to investigate.

As Sylvia opened the door he got a waft of Martha’s scent. Had she really followed him in to the building? Could she still fancy him, even now, after all this time?! Surely not. It had been a mere coincidence that she had been on the other side of the road as he had clambered out of the taxi earlier. Yes, a sheer coincidence. Just like it was a sheer coincidence that she worked for Torchwood, which had ready access to Jack, who knew the Doctor’s phone number and was rampantly loyal, to the nth degree… 

Almost immediately Benedict staggered as oxygen supplies to his feeble half human body faltered and he felt himself dissolve into a panic attack. The Doctor might know about the wedding by now. He could be standing outside… where Donna was walking up the staircase, right where he could easily see her and proposition her into joining him again.

A hand touched Benedict, breaking his destructive meanderings. 

“Are you having second thoughts?” Suzette asked him with concern. “’Cos you really shouldn’t,” she continued compassionately when she saw his wild-eyed stare. “You and Donna are made for each other.”

He felt himself calm as he sought to find an appropriate answer. “It isn’t that. It’s…” Benedict then desperately took hold of her hand. “Do you think Donna will actually turn up? Does she love me enough? Would she ditch me in the same way she jilted Lance? I’m better than him, aren’t I? I treat her okay, I wouldn’t feed her to some arachnid, and I came back all this way for her.”

Suzette smiled her friendliest smile. “Benny, Donna thinks the world of you. Everyone knows that. You’ve got nothing to worry about. She’s probably been held up by traffic, or Wilf needs help up the stairs. I’m sure it’s nothing worse than that.”

“Do you think so?” he worriedly quizzed her.

“I know so,” she confidently replied. “In fact…” Suzette looked towards the door. “I can see her now outside.”

A broad relieved grin spread across his face as he noticed the door opening to let Sylvia back in and gained a peek at Donna. “Thank you,” he happily sighed.

“Any time, love.” Suzette gave his arm a pat, and quickly sat herself down. She knew that Sylvia would love to know about his last minute panic that Donna wouldn’t turn up. Could this wedding get any more romantic?

~o~

As soon she stepped inside the large airy room, Martha spotted who she thought to be the Doctor standing by the officiating registrar. His face completely lit up when he saw Donna enter, and he raced forward in greeting; his eyes only interested in her.

“Where have you been? I was getting worried,” he whined, taking possessive hold of her hands and drawing her into the pre-set position to get married in.

“I met Martha outside,” Donna answered, having calmed down a great deal as soon as he had taken a hold of her. “But I’m here now.”

Martha was amazed that he didn’t take his eyes off Donna once. Surely he would have been looking out for a possible alien attack if nothing else? She prepared herself to take mental notes for Jack as she waited for some sort of drama to play out.

“Is everybody here now?” the officiant asked the small group of people in front of her. Sylvia’s friends making up the Wednesday Girls all nodded their agreement that everyone necessary was present. “Then we’ll begin. We are here today to celebrate the joining together of Benedict and Donna…”

A short welcoming speech was made; and then the legally required question of whether anyone knew of any just reason why this marriage should not take place. Martha looked round, expecting some alien creature to burst into the room; but to her surprise nothing like that happened at all. Disappointed did not cover her emotion in that moment; but she remained hopeful that some suspected plot would suddenly arise.

Well, almost nothing happened, until the officiant asked Benedict to state his own vows and then repeat the proper response. It was extremely touching, how Benedict went on about searching for Donna to complete and fulfil his life. Martha almost believed he meant it. 

The following vows made by Donna were equally expressive about how he completed her life, had saved her sanity and was the focus of her being. Martha thought it was a step too far in this charade to appear convincing with this wedding, despite the romantic ideal it set up. If she hadn’t known any better she would have been totally convinced by their show of mutual love. As it was, she was waiting for something to blow up.

The drama was added to by both the Benedict and Donna eagerly leaning forward to pick up a fancy pen as though they were about to sign the legal papers in front of the registrar; almost gaining a mark of ten out of ten from Martha. But the whole effect was spoilt by the sound of what she quickly knew to be the TARDIS materialising somewhere nearby. 

About time too!

She had expected Jack to creep into the room; what she saw was the Doctor storm in, closely followed by Jack hot on his heels.

“STOP THE WEDDING!” the Doctor angrily yelled as he marched in. “This cannot take place!”

“What?” An instant hubbub started up among the witnesses, but Martha could only concentrate on one thing at that moment. She was seeing double, and she wondered if this was yet another one of the Doctor’s cheap tricks; until she saw Jack’s face. 

Jack looked mortified, as though he dearly wished to be anywhere else but here; like the owner of an aggressively attacking dog.

“No no no no! You can’t do this to me!” Benedict protested as the Doctor bore angrily down on him. “This isn’t fair!”

“What’s _he_ doing here?” Sylvia sneered in pure disgust as she grasped Wilf’s arm in shock.

“Fair?!” the Doctor cried, ignoring the existence of Sylvia and her outburst, and remained focused on dealing with Benedict. “Fair would be you staying exactly where I left you instead of leaping across dimensions to get to here.”

“Why couldn’t I? I don’t remember you complaining or punishing Rose for doing so. In fact, she practically got a welcoming committee!” Benedict blazed, standing almost nose to nose with the Doctor in his fury.

“What?!” the Doctor spluttered. “If you think…” There was a finger tapping on his shoulder; but he batted it away, so the finger tapped harder. “What? What do you want….? Oh… Donna…!” 

He then stood gawping at her irate face as he tried to figure out how to:  
a) placate Donna, and  
b) how to stop her from thumping him one, hard.

“Have you finished ruining our wedding?” she asked through gritted teeth. “And if you dare answer me by saying ‘what?’ I shall slap you into next week.”

“You can’t marry him, Donna. Seriously you can’t,” the Doctor declared, spreading his hands wide to denote the situation. “This is ridiculous!”

There was a loud interrupting cough from the front of the room. “Excuse me, but you have missed your legal chance to protest against this marriage,” the officiant pointed out during the glaring competition that followed. 

“Yes. Bugger off, Doctor!” Benedict ordered him. “Please carry on,” he pleasantly said to the officiant when he turned towards her, “and excuse my brother, but he’s having some sort of brainstorm.”

“If you would excuse us just for one moment,” the Doctor added equally pleasantly to the officiant. “We need to talk!” he spat out at Donna and grabbed hold of her wrist.

“There’s a room to your right if you wish to use it,” the officiant helpfully called out as they began to move away. 

Both men flashed her a broad smile in gratitude.

“Come on, Donna,” the Doctor ordered her, and hoisted her protesting body into his arms.

“Oi! Where do you think you’re taking her?” Benedict angrily followed the Doctor into the registry side room; and the door slammed shut behind them.

“Donna?” Sylvia faintly whimpered her concern.

Martha stood staring at Jack. “What was all that about?” she demanded to know.

Jack combed his fingers through his short hair and considered what had just happened. “Honestly, I have no idea,” he confessed. “But he wasn’t pleased.”

~o~

All the noise from outside in the registry office marriage room melted away inside the confines of the registrar’s private chamber. The thick wooden panelled walls formed a natural cocoon of quiet around the three of them. Shame the internal conversations going on were not equally as quiet.

“What the bloody hell is going on?!” Donna wanted to know. “I take it that you aren’t after some sort of threesome; or have I walked accidentally into a porno plot?”

Benedict immediately smirked at the naughty thought. Not that he fancied sharing her or anything; although if she wanted to introduce a female friend at a much later date to spice up their love life... Right, he forced himself to concentrate on the drama in hand.

The Doctor seethed as the last words Donna said hit his attention. “Porno? What has he been getting you to do? As for a threesome...” A deep blush suddenly appeared on his face. “I erm...” 

Why did she have to bring that up now, of all times? As it was, he was having difficulty keeping his eyes away from the swell of her breasts as they sat so enticingly within the confines of the tightly bound bodice of her dress. And he hadn’t noticed the splattering of freckles that led down to uncharted flesh at all; not to his knowledge... At least, not in the last few seconds or so. 

Benedict’s eyes narrowed angrily as he noticed the Doctor’s area of focus, and he stepped deliberately closer to be as menacing as possible. 

Donna clicked her fingers in the Doctor’s face. “Oi! I’m up here, Time boy! I want an explanation out of you.”

This was followed by an inevitable sniff as self-control was sought. “This wedding is a sham. It cannot take place,” the Doctor demanded arrogantly.

“Oh no. You can’t get away with this,” Benedict insisted. “This is our life you are interfering in.”

“I think you’ll find it isn’t,” the Doctor contradicted. 

“Oh yeah? Then watch me do this…” Benedict took hold of Donna, swept her backwards within his embrace, and kissed her soundly.

She felt herself swoon before she realised what he was up to.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'd like to thank [dreamerbee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbee/pseuds/dreamerbee) for presenting a very convincing argument for this. It’s a good job I’d already written it really…

Fighting to stand upright, Donna slapped Benedict clean around the face. “You numpty! Stop treating me like a piece of meat!” she raged. “This is not claiming first dibs on me!”

Benedict nursed his offended cheek and his bruised ego. “But Donna, darling, you’re my wife now,” he whined, giving her the full kicked puppy eyes.

She turned on the Doctor; fury etched on her features. “I want to know why you think it is okay to come barging in here, ruining my wedding, and telling all and sundry that it is ridiculous that I marry him.”

The Doctor took a precautionary step back from her raised hand. “It’s like this…,” he nervously began. “He wasn’t supposed to be here; he was exiled to the alternate universe.”

“Yes I know that bit. I was there,” she reminded him. “I was also heavily under the influence of your mind, otherwise I would have told you, repeatedly, why it was such a bloody stupid idea.”

“Why…?” he started to ask.

“Why?! Lord give me strength. It was MY fault he existed in the form he did, it was YOUR fault you were shot in such an idiotic way, YOU decided you couldn’t regenerate completely and I admit that you had a point, to a certain extent. But let me get this straight, Rose risked eternal extensive damage by jumping across the dimensions despite you telling her it was not to be done, Martha threatened to nuke the whole planet to blow it to smithereens, Jack and Sarah were going to blow everything up using a warp star,” she raged as she prodded him in the chest with her index finger. “But get this, Benny saves EVERYONE in the known universes from the Daleks and HE gets exiled as his reward!” She couldn’t hold in her anger any longer, and she let rip with a furious slap across his face. “Where is the justice in that?! Come on; I really want to know!”

The Doctor staggered back dramatically, holding his jaw in shock, and tried to give Benedict a conspiratorial glance.

Benedict threw the Doctor a smug ‘nah nah de nah’ look. “I’d like to know too,” he added.

“Because… he committed genocide,” the Doctor retorted. 

“And so did I!” she spat back. “I killed the Pyrovilles, remember? There is nothing different in what we did, in order to save Earth.” Her voice then softened, to hurt tones. “Is that why you wiped my memory, of you and all that we did? I was being punished, put in exile away from you and everything else I loved.”

A sob wrenched its way out through his throat. “That’s not true! I did it to save your life. You would have died, Donna.”

She shook her head in sadness. “I don’t believe you,” she stated. “All I needed was Benny to stay with me to keep me stable. He proved it by coming back when you abandoned me.”

Grief oozed from him. “I didn’t abandon you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you in pain, let alone dying; so I made the sacrifice of giving you back a life, but without me.”

Donna sniffed back her tears whilst trying to wipe them away with the backs of her hands. “No, you walked away; just like you always do. I thought you loved Rose but you even fled from her, so what chance did I have?”

As Benedict nodded his agreement, the Doctor asked, “What do you mean? Of course you had a chance.”

Her disbelief was all too evident. “Do be serious! Since when have you loved me, like in proper non-mates love?” 

“Since forever,” the Doctor murmured, “or what feels like it but is really from the moment we laughed as we rode together on the Segways.”

“Now you’re just taking the piss out of me.” She frowned at him.

“Let me prove it,” he begged, and pulled her to him. In milliseconds his lips were on her mouth, causing the most wonderful sensations to pulse through her body. Immediately she opened up to him, and he plundered her soft flesh.

  
manip by [scifiangel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/scifiangel/pseuds/scifiangel)  


“Whoa! What are you playing at?!” Benedict yelled as he thrust his body between the two of them and forced them apart. “That’s my wife you’ve got your mitts all over. Let go!” 

Donna stood panting and stunned. What had just happened? “Did you just….?” she asked as she brought her fingertips up to touch her lips.

“Yes he bloody did!” Benedict loudly complained. “Do you want a fat lip to go with your battered cheek, you arsehole?”

“You aren’t completely married yet,” the Doctor smugly pointed out.

“Listen here,” Benedict threatened as he grabbed the Doctor by the lapels and brought them nose to nose. “All we’ve got to do is sign the book. Everything is done and legal.”

“But… that means…” The Doctor looked totally lost for a second. 

“Why is the fact we are married such a big deal with you? I don’t understand,” Donna admitted. “What difference does it make to you?”

When the Doctor didn’t, or wouldn’t, answer Benedict supplied the information as he released his tight hold. “He can’t have you, love. You are now mine. It’s the rules we live by.”

“But he didn’t want me,” she insisted, alternating her gaze between the two men. “The only man who’s ever truly loved and wanted me is you.”

Benedict couldn’t stop himself from drawing her into his embrace to offer comfort. “Yes, I love and want you, with all my heart. I came across the dimensions to find you and offer you my very soul. Donna, I can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere other than by your side,” he sincerely explained.

She still found it hard to believe that this wonderful man could say such beautiful things and mean them. “I don’t want anyone else but you,” she replied. “Not now, not ever.”

“Then stay with me,” he whispered, ghosting his breath across her lips. “Let me love you, please.”

“Always,” she promised; and kissed him.

They clung together as the soft, tender kiss progressed to passionate and hungry. 

_I love you so much,_ he weaved into her mind. _I was worried you would run off and leave me._

_Why would I want to do that?! You numpty!_ she huffed her indignation at him; and was pleased when he chuckled back. _I could never leave you now; I mean, I ask you._

_Because someone else would have you in a blink of an eye if you let him._

Now that was news to her sensibilities. Okay, perhaps it wasn’t a complete surprise after what had just happened; but she still had the knee jerk reaction of denying it, even if she rather liked the idea. 

_Donna, I know how you feel about him; I’ve always known,_ Benedict reluctantly admitted.

_I’m sorry, Benny, darling,_ she fretfully confessed. _It doesn’t mean I love you any less._

_I know._ He mentally shrugged. _I just wish you didn’t love him, that’s all._

_You silly sod,_ she fondly chastised him. _Talking of the Doctor, is he still watching us?_

_No, he left us alone when we started this,_ Benedict informed her.

They broke apart to find they had advanced to dry humping each other on top of the desk in the room. 

“Why does this sort of thing always end up with us in a compromising position?” Donna wondered, as she hastily stood up and smoothed down her dress.

Benedict tried to pretend that his suit was completely covering everything it should as he checked the buttons were all done up. “Perhaps we need more practise?” he suggested. When she raised a quizzical eyebrow, he added, “With the telepathy, the humping or actual sex; I’m not fussy.”

Inevitably, she swatted his arm. “We have guests outside, you tart!”

~o~

To their surprise, when they walked into the wedding room it was empty, apart from the Doctor lounging on a chair with his feet up on another, and Jack stood apprehensively with Martha a couple of feet away.

Benedict instantly asked them, “Where is everyone? Where did they go?”

The Doctor did his best to look nonchalant. “They went home.”

“What do you mean?” Donna fumed at him. “Why did you send them away?”

The nonchalance started slipping. “They had better things to do.”

Donna scowled. “Like what? They were supposed to help us celebrate our marriage.”

“Didn’t look like you needed anyone else to do that,” he replied. “Not from where I was standing.”

Ooh, that was more than a little bit jealous. Benedict knew the Doctor was covering his true feelings and wanted to suddenly rat him out. “Jack, what exactly did the Doctor tell you in order to get you here?”

Jack straightened, surprised they were finally noticing him. “That a catastrophic disaster was about to happen, that an alien criminal would have to be apprehended; a dangerous one. But all I’ve seen so far is you.”

“I’m dangerous?” Benedict asked the Doctor in disbelief. “And catastrophic? How can a normal everyday event like a wedding be catastrophic?”

“Donna’s first wedding was,” he defended himself.

“Only because you almost died,” Donna retorted. “That had consequences; absolutely terrible ones. I know because I saw them.”

A stormy expression momentarily appeared on the Doctor’s face. “Yes, and you died doing it whilst trying to save me. That’s after someone ripped apart my TARDIS.” He sat woefully regarding them.

“Same person as before,” Benedict answered Jack’s unspoken question. “It was part of the plan on her journey through the alternative universes.”

“Leaving aside all that,” Donna continued, to avoiding dredging all that up for both Time Lords, “you owe these two an apology.” She pointed to Jack and Martha.

“Why?” The Doctor indignantly glared at her and stood gracefully up. 

“For telling them lies.” Donna glared back. “You are cruising on your looks.”

Benedict leant on a chair in glee, thoroughly enjoying Donna have a go at the Doctor,

“I’m what?! I have never cruised,” he complained.

That didn’t get him anywhere. “Yes you have. Now say it!”

He scrunched his face up in defiance. “Do I have to?” he whined. “Donna!”

Martha’s hand shot over her mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Yes you do,” Donna insisted, “or you don’t get to ask your question.”

“And we know you are dying to,” Benedict interjected.

“Oh, alright,” the Doctor huffed, like a petulant teenager. “Sorry.” The two syllables were extended a lot further than a respectable Time Lord should have done.

“Well? Go on then. Ask,” Donna encouraged him.

“I’m sure they have other things to do, places to go, that sort of thing, while we talk this through,” he babbled on in avoidance.

“I know we do,” Benedict considered.

That seemed to focus the Doctor’s mind. “Yes, I’m sure you do,” he coughed. “But not before a possible adventure... Perhaps?” He looked hopefully at them.

“It’s up to you, my love,” Benedict answered Donna’s questioning gaze. “Where you go, I go.”

“Then that’s final,” she said decisively. “I stay with you,” she said as she reached out to take Benedict’s hand. The Doctor’s face fell instantly. “And with you, Spaceman,” she added, taking hold of his hand.

He lit up like a Christmas tree. “You’ll come? Both of you?”

They nodded. “We were meant to be among the stars.”

The Doctor embraced them both. “Then let’s begin right away. There’s no time like the present.”

Jack stood bewildered. “Was this all to get some new companions?” he wondered.

“No, we’re family,” Benedict gushed.

“Related by marriage...”

“And love,” Benedict agreed as he briefly kissed Donna.

“Won’t this be a bit awkward,” Martha mused. “The two of you looking the same.”

_Who is going to explain the setup we just agreed to?_ Benedict proposed.

_Not me,_ Donna replied. _This is your one, Spaceman._

The Doctor grinned. “Oh we’re very different to the right person. Shall we?” He gestured that they leave the room.

They let Jack and Martha lead the way out, but the Doctor kept a tight hold on Donna’s hand as they walked.

_Let’s keep this away from Jack for the time being,_ the Doctor suggested. 

_Afraid of making him jealous?_ came the answering tease.

_No, I’m afraid of making you jealous,_ he teased back, and enjoyed the mental swat. Although he momentarily was worried when he caught Donna’s enquiry if Jack had his handcuffs on him...

~o0o~  
  
artwork by dreamerbee  



End file.
